


I Dare You

by Rumpabumbum



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, dares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8008504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumpabumbum/pseuds/Rumpabumbum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Margaery dares Sansa, and one time Sansa dares Margaery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Dare You

                “Do it. I dare you,” smirked Margaery Tyrell.

                Sansa Stark clutched her small, fluffy pink purse closer to her chest. At seven years old, Margaery Tyrell was a full year older than Sansa. Which meant she was smarter and had done cool things like ride the bumper boats at Tully’s Trout World. Sansa admired Margaery very much.

                “But mother says it’s wrong to steal,” she said.

                Margaery picked up a candy bar and shoved it into her the pocket of her jeans. “It’s only wrong if you get caught.” She glanced around the gas station. “I’ll see you outside. Grab a good one.”

                With that, Margaery casually pranced out the door and around the corner.

                Sansa turned back to the candy bars. Robb had stolen something once. Sansa couldn’t remember what it was, only that her father had spanked him and forced him to give it back. Sansa gulped. She didn’t want to disappoint her mother and father, but she also didn’t want Margaery to think she was a baby.

                Sansa huffed and grabbed a Hightower Crunch bar. She fumbled with her purse as she unzipped it and shoved the bar in.

                She jumped as she felt a hand grab her shoulder and spin her around. Sansa looked up. Mr. Royce, the owner of the gas station, frowned down at Sansa. “What are you doing, Ms. Stark?”

                “I-I-I,” Sansa stuttered.

                “You’re in big trouble, young lady. I know your father raised you better than that.” Mr. Royce began pushing her to the counter. Tears welled up in Sansa’s eyes. She was in big trouble now.

                “Sansa where are you going? Did you pick out the bar you wanted?” called out Margaery.

                Mr. Royce and Sansa turned around. Margaery stood in front of the counter holding out a golden dragon. “This is none of your business, Ms. Tyrell. I suggest you go home before I call your grandmother too.”

                “But sir,” pouted Margaery, “I only wanted to pay for the candy bars that Sansa and I were buying. My grandmother told me to get her whichever kind she liked.” Margaery grinned widely as she placed her own candy bar onto the counter.

                Mr. Royce glared down at Sansa. “Is this true?”

                Sansa was too scared to speak, so she nodded her head rapidly.

                Mr. Royce smiled and let go of Sansa, moving behind the counter to take the coin from Margaery. “You have to pay for things before you put them away, sweetheart. Otherwise you cause more trouble than it’s worth.”

                Again Sansa could only nod and watch as Margaery completed the transaction. The brunette grabbed her hand and led her out of the store, waving goodbye to Mr. Royce.

                “Don’t worry,” whispered Margaery, “I snuck you out an extra to make up for it.” Margaery smirked as she pulled out a second candy bar and put it in Sansa’s shaking hand.

* * *

 

                “Come on! I want to watch it,” said Margaery. She pulled on Sansa’s arm to drag her to the Tyrell’s television room.

                “No. I hate scary movies. And besides, it’s rated R,” muttered Sansa. The last time she watched a horror movie she couldn’t sleep for three nights. Her mother had scolded her father harshly and decided that Sansa shouldn’t watch scary movies until she was at least 13.

                Margaery, however, didn’t receive the memo that it was _Sansa_ who had to be 13, not herself.

                “So what? I love scary movies. Besides,” Margaery pouted her lips, “It’s my birthday.”

                “How about you watch with Loras and I’ll go read or watch that documentary on dragons with Willas,” suggested Sansa. She didn’t want to watch the movie, but she was a guest at Margaery’s 13th birthday party.

                “I didn’t invite Loras to my sleepover, I invited you,” huffed Margaery. Then lips curled into a devilish smirk. “I dare you to watch it with me.”

                Sansa sighed. Her pride never let her back down from dares, especially with Margaery. Margaery hopped off the couch and popped the movie into the DVD player. “I promise, you’ll love it!” she squealed.

                Two hours later, Sansa was hugging a pillow tightly against her face. The movie was gory and the psychotic murderer reminded her and awful lot of Robb’s best friend Theon. It also didn’t help that during an intense scene, Margaery decided to scream as loudly as she could about a psychopath behind Sansa. Sansa had jumped and screamed. It turned out to only be Loras with a plastic fork in his hand. They had to pause the movie to allow Margaery and Loras to gather themselves from their hysterical laughing.

                “It’s over Sansa,” said Margaery as the credit music began playing.

                Sansa reluctantly lowered the pillow from her face. She didn’t trust her friend right now.

                “Honestly, it wasn’t even that scary Sans. It was just a little blood,” sighed Margaery. She turned off the movie. Sansa was still pale and stiff, as if she had seen the ghost of Aegon the Conqueror. Worry crept into Margaery’s eyes, a small concerned frowned forming on her lips. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

                Sansa glanced at Margaery, but didn’t answer. Before Margaery could ask her again, Mr. Tyrell knocked against the wall. “Bedtime girls!”

                Between the scenes of blood and guts that Sansa saw when she closed her eyes and the lopsided air mattress that she brought with her to sleep on, Sansa struggled to sleep. She eventually did fall asleep, but it did her no good.

                In her dreams, Sansa was running from the psychopath through a playground in the middle of a forest. She heard his bloodthirsty hounds howl and the “shing” of a sharpening knife haunted her wherever she turned. When she tripped over a root, she his footsteps and his hounds’ padding paws came closer. The psychopath lifted her off the ground. Sansa kicked but couldn’t reach him. Through tears she watched his toothy grin widen. He pinned her against a tree and held a knife to her throat. “What a pretty thing. I like pretty little girls,” he murmured and pressed the knife blade to Sansa’s throat.

                Sansa woke gasping. For a moment, she forgot she was at Margaery’s house and not in the middle of that forest still. Once she remembered she started crying. She knew she shouldn’t have watched that movie. Margaery wasn’t being a good friend. A good friend would have found a different movie to watch.

                Sansa tried to muffle her sobs, but she couldn’t stop the hitch in her throat or her sniffling nose.

                “Sansa?” mumbled Margaery, half-asleep. Sansa stopped her sobs, not wanting to bother her friend, even she wasn’t a good friend. A sniffle still escaped, as Sansa had to breathe.

                Margaery scrambled to the edge of her bed and peered down at Sansa. “Sansa, what’s wrong?”

                “Nothing, just got back from the bathroom,” Sansa lied. The hoarseness in her voice gave her away.

                Sansa couldn’t see Margaery’s face, but she could hear the gentleness in her voice when she told Sansa, “Come up here.”

                Sansa reluctantly got up and moved to the edge Margaery’s full-sized bed. She stared down at her hands in the dark, hoping to placate her friend until she fell back asleep.

                The sheets rustled beside Sansa and Margaery crawled next to her, laying her head on Sansa’s shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

                Sansa shook her head. “Not really.”

                The girls sat in silence for a moment, Margaery gently stroking Sansa’s hand, even as Sansa fiddled and squeezed her own fingers. Finally Margaery said, “I shouldn’t have made you watch that. That was selfish and mean.”

                “It’s okay,” sniffled Sansa. She didn’t like to hear Margaery speak badly about herself. Even if it was true.

                “It’s not okay. I didn’t think of your feelings at all and made you watch something that I knew you wouldn’t like. I’m sorry,” said Margaery.

                Sansa turned her head and looked at Margaery. She could see Margaery staring down at the floor. Margaery Tyrell never apologized.

                Sansa embraced her. “I’m okay. A little fear is good for everyone,” she tried to joke.

                Margaery broke the hug and scooted back to the middle of the bed. “You can sleep up here if you want,” she offered. She adjusted the pillows and scooted to the left, leaving plenty of room for Sansa. Sansa crawled up the bed and situated herself.

                Sansa decided that in her own way, Margaery was better than a good friend.

* * *

 

                Sansa averted her eyes as Margaery prepared to jump. This was insanity. “You’re going to get caught,” Sansa practically sang.

                “Oh, get that stick out of your arse Sansa Stark and live a little,” said Margaery.

                Sansa scoffed, slightly offended. Was it wrong of her to want to stay out of trouble on the graduation trip that Sansa and Margaery’s parents paid for. Well, Sansa’s graduation trip. Margaery had graduated a year ago, but the trip wouldn’t be possible without the Tyrell’s co-funding.

                Margaery screamed as she jumped into the lake, landing with a large splash. “WOOOO!!!” She yelled from the water.

                “Could you at least be quiet? There are people sleeping in the other lake houses,” said Sansa.

                Margaery ignored the comment. “You should join me. The water’s great!”

                “I’m fine here, thanks,” said Sansa.

                Margaery backstroked through the water. “I dare you to!”

                Sansa quirked an eyebrow. Did Margaery really think that would work? “I’m not 14 anymore Margaery. That’s not going to work on me.”

                Margaery’s smirk grew. She swam closer, moonlight reflecting off the water and her wet shoulders, covered with her dark brunette hair. “Won’t it? What if I dared you to or else I’ll go tell my brother about your little crush on him.”

                Sansa glared at Margaery. “You wouldn’t.

                Margaery swam backward. “Wouldn’t I? I can see it now. All the awkward glances. You blushing fiercely everytime you’re next to him. Loras making excuses to avoid being in the same room as you. And I’ll make sure to have you over all the time over the summer.”

                “Fine! Fine, I’ll do it.” Sansa lifted her shirt over her head. “I’m not going naked though.”

                “Why not?” asked Margaery. “I am.”

                Sansa glanced down next to wear her shoes now sat. Margaery’s underwear was scattered around the rocks. “That’s because your certifiable,” called Sansa. She finished stripping down to her bra and underwear.

                Sansa breathed in and out deeply, ran forward and jumped off the short cliff. Margaery cheered as Sansa hit the water and Sansa screeched. “It’s freezing!”

                “Well, you wouldn’t have come in if I told you it was cold,” shrugged Margaery. Sansa swept her hand across the water’s surface, splashing Margaery in the face. Margaery gasped and cleared the water out of her face. She giggled. “I’ve been influencing you. Job well done!”

                Margaery swam toward the middle of the lake. Sansa shivered. She would not last in this cold water. She swam toward the shore.

                Sansa was six feet from the shore when she heard a wolf-whistle. “My, my what do we have here?” said a snobbish voice.

                Sansa turned. A tall, blond boy around her own age slowly walked to the water’s edge. “Aren’t you a pretty thing. But you must be freezing. Why don’t you get out of the water, and I’ll warm you up a bit.”

                There was something in his voice that Sansa didn’t trust. “I’m fine, thanks.” She looked around the lake. The next closest shore leading out of the lake was at least a twenty-minute swim.

                “Come on, baby. I don’t bite. I prefer whips, if you know what I mean,” he sneered. Sansa swam back a little. He walked to the water’s edge. His rodent-like face screamed evil intentions, from the way he licked his lips to the lust playing in his eyes. “I know many ways to warm up. And there’s not much pain in it. Not much.”

                “I-I” stuttered Sansa. The man began taking off his shoes. He was going to get in the water.

                Sansa began swimming backward. He started stripping faster, down to his jeans when he suddenly stopped. Sansa couldn’t take her eyes off him, but also couldn’t stop swimming back and smacked into something fleshy.

                “There you are,” purred Margaery. She wrapped her arms around Sansa, pulling her against her.

                Sansa pulled away. And floated next to Margaery. She was confused and panicked. She couldn’t tell Margaery about the danger.

                Margaery swam closer to her, and stroked the wet hair on Sansa’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, love?” Margaery looked over to the shore, pretending to be surprised. “Who’s this?”

                Sansa opened her mouth, but shut it quickly. She knew nothing about the man. She saw the growing tent in his pants, however, and knew exactly what he was imagining in the moment.

                “Joffrey,” he said, “My name is Joffrey.” He smiled.

                Margaery smiled back. “Well, Joffrey my girlfriend and I were just having a nice swim.” Margaery wrapped her arms around Sansa and kissed her cheek. “Isn’t that right Alayne?”

                Alayne? Sansa quirked an eyebrow. Margaery winked.

                “Girlfriend?” Joffrey sounded disappointed. He then quickly perked up. “Girlfriend, yeah I can work with that.” He said.

                 He began unzipping his pants again. Margaery rolled her eyes, but returned to her character. “Alayne, you didn’t tell me you invited him to join us. Naughty girl.” Sansa’s eyes widened. What the hell was Margaery doing? “Loras will be thrilled to have a new partner.”

                Joffrey was down to his underwear. “Loras?” he said.

                Margaery nodded, grinning wide. “Yes, my brother. He came by himself. He’ll be thrilled to find out he won’t be sleeping alone.”

                Margaery rubbed her hands against Sansa’s arms, as if reminding her to remain calm.

                Joffrey pulled his pants back up. “You know, it’s a bit late actually. Perhaps another time.”

                “Are you sure,” asked Margaery. She kissed Sansa’s shoulder. “Loras is an excellent lover. Would make any man happy. At least, that’s what Alayne says.”

                Sansa slapped at Margaery. This was not the time to be using her crush against her. But it had the desired effect. Joffrey scrambled to gather his clothes “I’m positive.” He ran off, back to the rows of houses lining the lake.

                Once he was out of ear shot, Margaery laughed. “I didn’t think it was that great of a ploy, but he still fell for it.” Sansa didn’t stay to listen Margaery congratulate herself. She swam as quickly as she could to the shore.

                “Sansa,” called Margaery. Sansa marched off toward the cliff where her clothes were. She pulled on her shirt and tugged on her jeans. And she picked up Margaery’s clothes, even though they wouldn’t be in this mess if not for Margaery.

                When Sansa returned, Margaery was swimming in the shallow end of the water. Sansa dropped Margaery’s clothes at the edge of the water and started back for the cabin.

                Half way back to the cabin, Margaery caught up to Sansa. “Sansa you can’t be serious. Didn’t you find that even a tiny bit thrilling and fun?”

                Sansa huffed. “No Margaery. Something wasn’t right with that man. He was creep and I guarantee he would have hurt me if it weren’t for you.”

                “But I was there. I protected you,” said Margaery, ringing water from her hair.

                “I was in that situation because of you!” Sansa flailed her arms, nearly smacking Margaery in the nose.

                Margaery held tight to Sansa’s shoulder and turned her around. “I just wanted to see you lighten up,” said Margaery. “You’re always so serious all the time. And that’s great, but you have to have fun once in a while. I don’t want to see you miserable in your own head all the time.”

                Sansa sighed. Margaery was right…again. “Where did the whole Alayne thing come from?” Sansa asked.

                Margaery smiled. “I was watching some corny comedy and the stripper’s name was Alayne. And I’ve always imagined us as lesbian lovers,” she teased.

                Sansa scoffed. “Right.”

                They continued their walk along the lake. “At least we have the creep’s name.”

                “We have his first name,” said Sansa.

                “How many Joffreys can there be in Casterly Rock?” said Margaery. “Now come along Alayne, I have some wicked plans for you.” Margaery pinched Sansa’s butt and skipped along giggling at the squeak that she elicited from Sansa.

* * *

 

                The ringing of her phone jerked Margaery out of her sleep. She picked up her phone. 4:30. She fell asleep studying.

                She accepted the call, not caring to see who was calling. “Hello?”

                “Hi. Is um…Is Margaery there?” asked a vaguely familiar voice.

                “Yes, this is Margaery.”

                “Hi, Margaery, it’s Arya.” Ah. Catelyn Stark made sure each of Sansa’s siblings had Margaery’s number in case of emergency. None of them had ever used it until now.

                “Hi Arya, how’s Sansa doing?” She hadn’t heard from her best friend since she went home for her father’s funeral nearly a week ago. Sansa had not taken the news well, becoming unresponsive and distant until Margaery drove her to the airport to fly home.

                “Not well,” said Arya. “That’s why I’m calling, actually. I’m scared for her Margaery. When she came home, she couldn’t stop crying, which I suppose is understandable.” Arya had never done well with emotions, but even she had cried a few times since learning of her dad’s accident. “But it goes beyond that. She won’t talk to mum or me or Robb. She won’t stay in the same room with us for more than five minutes before leaving. Hell, she hasn’t even left her room since the funeral. All she does is cry or sit there motionless. And I don’t know when the last time she ate was and I don’t want to lose my big sister too.”

                Margaery had never heard Arya sound so vulnerable, so scared. Margaery measured out her words. “What do you want me to do?”

                “I don’t know,” sighed Arya. “Mum has been a wreck between dad’s death and Sansa’s...reaction. She worrying herself into the ground and Robb has been out all week, constantly spending time with Jeyne Westerling and Jory. I just…I didn’t know who else to call.”

                Margaery nodded. Sansa needed her. “I’m on my way.”

                Sansa’s family had moved back to Winterfell following Sansa’s graduation while Sansa attended HighGarden State University with Margaery. Margaery had never been so far north, to where Sansa was born.

                When she arrived at the doorstep of the Stark home, Margaery rang the doorbell. The door quickly opened. Catelyn Stark’s wore a black sweater and pants, hair clipped up rather messily. “Hi Mrs Star-“

                Catelyn reached forward and pulled Margaery into a tight hug. Margaery peeked over her shoulder to see Arya sitting on the couch, pretending to read a book. She looked up from her book, looking impassive, except for the genuine fear in her eyes.

                “I’m glad you could make it,” said Catelyn, releasing Margaery from her embrace.

                “Sansa is my best friend,” said Margaery, “She needs me right now. I couldn’t stay away.”

                Catelyn nodded. She led Margaery up the stairs and past two bed rooms before stopping in front of a closed door covered in photos of Sansa with her family and Margaery and Jeyne Poole and Theon Greyjoy. “Sansa, sweetheart, Margaery is here. She came all the way from Highgarden to check on you.”

                There was no response, no shuffling of sheets, not even a breath. Catelyn creased her forehead in panic.

                “It’s okay Catelyn,” whispered Margaery, “I can handle this.”

                Catelyn hesitated before accepting Margaery’s words and slowly returning back down stairs.

                Margaery cleared her throat. “Sansa, I-I can honestly say I don’t know what it feels like to experience what you’re going through, but-but I’m here for you no matter what.”

                Still nothing. Margaery sighed. She knocked again. “Sansa? Sansa can you hear me?”

                How could she get Sansa to let her in? Then it clicked. “Sansa Stark, I dare you to let me in.”

                Nothing happened for a moment. Then Margaery could hear stomping on the other side of the door. It jerked open, revealing a red eyed, tear streaked, messy-haired Sansa. Her face was contorted with rage. “How dare-“

                Margaery cut her off by lunging forward with a hug. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I just needed you to let me in.”

                Sansa remained still, not returning the hug or saying a word, so Margaery continued on. “I’m sorry about your father Sansa. He was a good man, and he loved you so, so much. He wouldn’t want to see you like this, see you hurting yourself.”

                Sansa shook her head.

                “You are hurting yourself,” whispered Margaery, stroking Sansa’s red fluffy hair. “You’re sad and in mourning, but you can’t shut yourself down. You have to talk about it, sweet girl. Talk to me or Catelyn or Arya. Please, just talk to us.”

                Sansa shoved Margaery off of her and returned to her bed, back facing Margaery as she curled up and cuddled a stuffed dog.

                Margaery glanced back over her shoulder. Catelyn was back in the hallway, eyes brimming with tears as she watched everything unfold.

                “It’s okay,” mouthed Margaery, gently shutting the door.

                Margaery approached Sansa’s bed and slowly sat down on the edge. She pulled the hair back off Sansa’s shoulder and brushed her fingers against Sansa’s arm, then her hair as the girls sat in silence.

                It seemed like nearly twenty-minutes later when Sansa mumbled, “It’s my fault, you know.”

                “What is?” asked Margaery.

                Sansa rolled over, staring up at Margaery. “Father’s death. It’s my fault.”

                Margaery dropped down to her knees to be eye-level with Sansa. “Ssshh. It’s not your fault, sweet girl. It was a hit-and-run. You couldn’t have controlled any of it.”

                Sansa’s eyes watered up. She gazed at the wall behind Margaery when she spoke. “It is though. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t asked him to go to the mechanic to check on my car, he wouldn’t have been there. He’d still be here, sitting downstairs watching football with Robb and Arya while mother read. And now he’s gone and it’s all my fault.” Sansa was sobbing into the pillow.

                Margaery began stroking Sansa’s cheek again. “No. No it’s not your fault, love. Who’s to say Ned wouldn’t have gone there on his own volition? You can’t blame yourself for this Sansa. No one blames you. It was that stupid driver. And they’re going to catch him and he will rot in prison for the rest of his life.”

                Sansa didn’t stop crying. Her crying grew louder. This was her release, Margaery realized. Everything she’d been bottling up for the last week. Margaery climbed onto the bed and held Sansa, petting her back and hair as she cried and cried.

               

* * *

 

               “Look! She’s adorable,” squealed Sansa. It was their last day in Winterfell before heading back to High Garden State, and Margaery finally agreed to let Sansa get a pet for their apartment.

                Sansa pet the pup’s furry coat. She’s a direwolf, the man at the front desk of the animal shelter said. Sansa fell in love with the dog instantly. She would grow to be huge, but the dog had such a kind and gentle nature. She didn’t run around or bark. Just stood still as Sansa stroked her.

                Margaery stood back, away from the dogs. She had never liked dogs. But if this would help Sansa, then so be it.

                But still, did it have to be such a fierce dog? “How about a nice kitten?” asked Margaery.

                “I don’t want a kitten. I want her,” said Sansa as she pet the baby beast. “She's gorgeous and sweet. You’ll love her, Margaery.”

                “Uhm, are you sure?” asked Margaery.

                Sansa stood. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that Margaery Tyrell is afraid of my gorgeous hound.”

                Great, thought Margaery, she already claimed it. Margaery then realized that she hadn’t responded. Sansa noticed too. She went back to the pin and picked up the puppy.

                “Margaery Tyrell, I dare you to adopt this ball of fluff and love,” Sansa dropped the dog into Margaery’s arms. The dog immediately licked Margaery’s face, but not frantically like Margaery had been expecting. Margaery held the pup back out to Sansa.

                “Fine, fine. What are you going to name her?” asked Margaery.

                Sansa cradled the pooch. “Well, she’s prim and proper. She’ll be a proper Lady. That’s her name: Lady.”

                Five minutes later, they hooked a collar around Lady’s neck and walked her back to Sansa’s car.

                Margaery watched as Sansa’s eyes lit up more and more as she walked her new dog. Margaery loathed the idea of cleaning up after the dog and all the shedding it would do. But if Lady made Sansa’s eyes light up like they did now, then Lady would be Margaery’s pride and joy as much as Sansa’s.


End file.
